Call
by Constantinus
Summary: Love may be strong, but nature is stronger, and Toothless answers the call of one stronger than himself. One-shot, set during How to Train Your Dragon. Rated T for implied violence.


**A/N: This story was inspired by Igor Stravinsky's **_**The Rite of Spring**_**. Consider yourself duly warned.**

* * *

Shadow-Watcher could feel the call of Great One. Burning, piercing, inexorable, inescapable. And for the first time since his egg-breaking so many moons ago, unanswerable. He struggled against his bonds, the unfamiliar sensation of restriction holding his wings and legs at odd angles until he ached and keened, desperate to move, to return, to answer. The call was all-consuming, unrelieved by time or distance, summoning him to the rites of devotion and servitude. Great One longed for him, the searching call promising reward and punishment in equal measure, the frozen heat of pleasure and burning cold of pain tingling and tantalizing in his core. Great One was blinding light and deepest shadow, the satisfaction of silver-fins in his belly and the agony of fever-bearers burning under his skin. And Great One wanted him back. He shivered with the strength and desperation of the call, helpless to respond.

Until the human came. It was a male, small and squeaking; Shadow-Watcher thought it was one of their young. He could see the thin bones through the smooth, white skin on its face and hear the beat of its heart against delicate ribs, the blood running through narrow limbs. It carried a blade. Shadow-Watcher stared at it, silently pleading for a swift death, for release from the restraints, from the immobility, from the unending, unbearable call of Great One.

There was aggression in the human's scent and its heart pumped faster, the sound of human blood rushing in Shadow-Watcher's keen ears. But there was fear too, a scent that told Shadow-Watcher the human was weak, too small and frightened to grant his desire. He laid his head on the soft earth, moaning in despair.

His eyes snapped open when he heard the rasp of blade on rope, feeling his legs freed, then his tail and wings, and he leaped upward and pounced, his eyes narrowed and an angry growl welling from his lungs. The human looked up at him with eyes too big for its face and shuddered, its whole body shaking with gripping fear. There was no pity in Shadow-Watcher's heart, only the urgency of Great One's call. He reared back, opened his jaws, and roared, bellowing pain and fear and longing into the merciless sky. Then he leaped into the air, intent only on answering the call.

But his body failed him, and he crashed to the ground, shrieking in pain and confusion.

* * *

Shadow-Watcher felt Great One calling him as he lay trapped in the silent bowl of rock, grass, and water. The human returned again and again, watching him carefully and bringing him silver-fins. Shadow-Watcher ate the profferred gift, returning the courtesy according to ancient custom. The human brought other things too, skins of land-runners and twisted scraps of shining earth-bone.

The human had small, nimble forelegs with which he touched everything. But after the first contact, Shadow-Watcher found he didn't mind the touch. He liked it actually. The little human's forelegs were softer than fire-belly scales and had no talons to speak of; Shadow-Watcher enjoyed the human's sly attempts to scratch him, especially that secret spot under his jaw where his foreleg wouldn't reach. And every touch of the little sly human's hands was a distraction, however brief, from the pull of Great One's never-ending call.

Learning to fly again was a distraction too. Little sly human was slow, tethering him down and returning after each absence with more silver-fins and new shreds of skin and earth-bone. On his own, Shadow-Watcher could have returned to the mountain long before, his life once again devoted to Great One. But when Little Sly decided at last to fly, really fly, wind buffeting his wings and his way home clear before him, Shadow-Watcher found he no longer felt the call. As he and Little Sly rode the wind, shrieking and roaring through the maze of stone and mist, he loosed a blast of fire that scorched the air and shimmered around them, setting his skin afire with a new sensation.

He was free.

* * *

When Little Sly returned again, something was different. There was a scent on the air, a new scent, strange and sweet and salty. It belonged to another human, not much bigger than Little Sly but much more aggressive, all bright hair and heavy skin-coverings weighed down with sharp spikes. It was female, and Little Sly stood between her and Shadow-Watcher, calming pleas in the movements of his hands. Little Sly wanted her to fly with them, and Shadow-Watcher was willing, but only on his own terms.

Little Spiky screamed again and again as he spun and dove; her cry was shrill, sharp, shuddering in his ears and shivering through the wind of flight. Her scent was all fear now, but Little Sly didn't seem to mind her shrieks; he was too angry at Shadow-Watcher. It was new, this anger: the smell of it rolled off him like the bitter scent of tree-burning. But it was mixed with something else, something Shadow-Watcher had never smelled on Little Sly. It was hunger, the smell of a young male approaching his chosen mate for the first time. And with the sharp urgency of protective instinct, Shadow-Watcher spread his wings abruptly.

The screams ended, Little Spiky cut off mid-cry as they floated gently on an updraft. The salty tang of her fear dissipated in the rosy pink of billowing sky-waters and Shadow-Watcher drifted steadily, turning and gliding and giving Little Sly every opportunity to sate his hunger for her. But Little Sly didn't, even when Little Spiky pressed herself against him, and Shadow-Watcher offered him an encouraging glance that contained a hint of warning; this was a gift, and Little Sly would never have another chance to offer himself if he refused her this once.

They spoke in quiet hums and coos, Little Spiky chirping as they fluttered over the still earth-water. It was dark, Shadow-Watcher's scales blending seamlessly with the environment for which he had been named, disappearing in the void left by the sun's descent. The wind was gone, only the light breeze of slow flight ruffling his wings and sending the humans' hair streaming behind them. That was when he felt it.

The presence of fire-bellies, fresh from the hunt, their scents full of salt water and blood and hunger, but no burning. They had been hunting the waters then, skimming white-caps with their wings and driving silver-fins upward into their talons. They were all around him, legion in their number, shimmering like wisps in the deepening fog. They whispered to him in soft voices, scenting him and chittering of their hunt, fresh kill in every pair of forelegs. And Shadow-Watcher knew, a moment before he felt it, what drove them onward.

It was Great One's call, so long unanswered and so long unfelt, overpowering in its urgency and pleading. Shadow-Watcher stiffened, every nerve, muscle, and sinew at war within him. He had no kill to offer in appeasement of his long absence, and the humans on his back trusted him, not knowing what lay ahead. He almost turned back, but the burning jolt of pleasure-pain that filled his core was too great to deny. Great One _keened _to him and him alone, the call screaming behind his eyes, freeing and enthralling him at once, ravishing him with offered temptation. Little Sly stroked him, the human's soft hand warm on his head, but it was not enough to draw him away and Shadow-Watcher flew onward, his wings adjusting to the pulsing rhythm that ached in his bones and drew him home. Great One was waiting. And Great One would wait no longer.

The mountain cut through the fog, and his eyes locked on the tunnel entrance ahead, the path to his destiny and his despair. The humans cried out as he shifted and swerved through the rock, his eyes not needing the hazy red light that intensified as they penetrated deeper. They were all there, brothers and sisters of each kind, swirling in a great mass over the vast, smoking pit as they offered all to Great One in the ancient rites of servitude. Shadow-Watcher hung back to land on an outcropping of rock, fear clenching in his heart and setting his head-plates twitching. Great One's hunger was insatiable, and he had nothing to offer. Nothing but himself.

He watched apprehensively as an Earth-Muncher hovered over the pit, opening its mouth to drop a fish to the monarch who waited below. A trembling growl answered the offering and the Earth-Muncher flew upward slowly. Too slowly, for Great One rose then, devouring it with one snap. Little Sly murmured something in Shadow-Watcher's ear, and he rose. Great One saw him and turned full attention to the long-missing servant who lurked in the shadows. The call was stronger than ever, splitting him in twain, and he lurched forward, ignoring the frantic cries of the humans on his back.

Great One snapped again, eager and hungry, and it was done. Shadow-Watcher retreated into the shadows as Great One descended into the depths of smoke, satisfied. He had returned and paid his dues in flesh and blood, bound to Great One with ties that could never be broken. Without Little Sly to help him he would never leave the mountain again.

* * *

**A/N: I warned you. You can burn me in effigy at your own leisure. **


End file.
